Treading the Labyrinth
by whalefairyfandom12
Summary: Zoe Jackson is tired. She's tired of her family, her life, her family, the secrets, and her family. What's all this about Luke and a summer camp? Why does Mom carry a knife everywhere? And who is the mysterious green-eyed boy who haunts her dreams? One thing's for sure-after this summer, nothing will be the same. After this summer, everything changes. Second gen PJATO/HP crossover
1. Chapter 1

**_So I know I shouldn't probably be starting a NEW fanfic when, as you know, I'm working on Illuminating the Darkness and Fairytale, but this idea popped into my head, and well, I just couldn't resist!_**

****1

The rains falls onto the damp cobble streets below. I let my mouth drop open, catching the silky smooth droplets on my tongue. Luke watches from the living room window, probably wondering if his sister had gone insane. I didn't care. It was worth it, the freedom, the peace, and the water.

"Zoe!" the call resounds through the house and out the front door. I chose to ignore it, though, facing myself back towards the endless downpour of rain.

"Zoe Jackson!" the call comes again, more persistent. Again, I tune it out, nothing more then a bee buzzing it's angry tirade in my ear for disturbing it's slumber.

"Zoe Bianca Jackson!" Uh oh. Middle name treatment. Never a good sign. I sigh, reluctantly stomping up the walkway to the front door. Jumping up the stairs, I kick off my shoes and plop down in defeat on the small, creaky bench by the door.

"Zoe!" my mother begins, her eyes the color of the storm clouds overhead. Here it comes. "We NEVER go outside in the rain! Do you understand me?"

Usually, that was good enough for me. Mom says so, that's the rule. Bada bing, bada boom. But lately, that wasn't good enough. Lately, I had more questions. Why did we have to keep moving? Why did Mom have a knife in her boot all the time? Why did Luke and I never meet our grandparents, besides Dad's mom and Mom's Dad? What was with Dad and his security blanket of a pen?

"But why?" I burst out. "Why can't I go outside in the rain? Why do we have to move every year? Why does Mom have a knife?" At this last question, I can see Mom's hand stray, unawares, to her left boot.

"That is none of your concern," Dad says firmly, his eyes hard. "Just stay inside." With that, Mom and Dad turn on their heals and walk down the hall, muttering amongst themselves.

"Well brilliant," I say sarcastically to Luke, expecting SOME support there. He frowns, though.

"Zoe, Mom and Dad have their reasons," he says. "Just because they haven't told you doesn't mean they're not there."

He turns and walks up the stairs to his room.

"Just think about it!" he yells. I groan. Sometimes it feels like I'm the younger sibling, not the oldest. Luke was blessed, (or cursed, depending on your point of view,) with Mom's eyes. When he was serious, those stormy grey eyes hardened, like silver. That and the stare he has, sometimes it feels like I have three parents running around. As if two weren't bad enough.

The clock chimes in the hall as Dad renters the mudroom.

"Zoe?" he asks cautiously. "Dinner's ready." My stomach growls as I nod sullenly, leaping to my feet to set the table.

As the four of us sit down to eat, Mom eyes me, anger evident in her gaze.

"Zoe," she says. "You know how I feel about the sulking."

I roll my eyes. "Pass me the gravy, Luke."

"Manners!" Luke chides as he hands me the dish. See what I mean about three parents?

"She's a teenager Annabeth," Dad tells Mom. "Remember how you were at that age?" Mom snorts.

"I doubt I was THAT obnoxious," she mutters. Ouch. Thanks, Mom.

"It's in their nature to be self-obsessed," Dad continues. "She'll grow out of it. Don't worry."

"Um, hello?" I interrupt. "I'm right here!"

"Be as that may," Mom says, swiveling back towards me, "-Your attitude is completely uncalled for. I've read stories about feuding Mother's and Daughter's, and we're not going to be one of them." Of course. Typical Mom. Only she would use the word _feuding, _and read it in a book, not on the internet like any normal person would. Though, as I'm sure you've picked up, my family is anything but normal.

Maybe once you answer my questions, I think irritably.

What my parents called being self-absorbed, I called getting a brain. When you were little, you were your parents mindless little slave. You did whatever they wanted. But once you grew up, you started to think, and get a brain and mind of your own. And at about the beginning of getting a brain, you begin to see the holes in your parents thinking, And those holes grow and grow, as your brain does, until they're so blatantly big there's no chance of avoiding it.

But I knew that wasn't the answer Mom wanted. And if there's one thing I've learned in my years as a teenager, it's go along to get along.

"Yeah," I say. Mom's eyebrows shoot up. "Yes, Mom." Mom nods, satisfied.

"Good," she says. "And don't forget."

The rest of the meal is conducted in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Sorry it's so short, but I wanted to update it soon, so... Also, Annabeth is strict for a reason you will find out soon! Thank you so much for all your support and reviews!

2

I never quite fit in with the rest of my family. I take after my Dad, I have his eyes and face, with my mom's hair. Luke is the spitting image of my Mom, as I believe I've said. But I always was the odd one out. It was like the rest of my family was part of some elite club that I could never join-I was close, but not quite.

After my argument with my Mom and Dad, I shut myself in the shower, letting the water run over me, relishing the slick, smooth feel of it slipping down over my shoulders.

"Zoe!" Luke calls. I groan.

"Just a minute!" I call back, tuning him out.

"I understand that you're a girl," he begins patiently.

"Ugh, shut up Luke!" I yell.

"But was an hour long shower REALLY necessary?" he continues, ignoring my response. Sighing, I turn off the water and get dressed. As I open the door, Luke stares at my head in confusion.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

"Your hair," he says, feeling it. "It's completely dry."

I frown and feel the ends of my hair. It's true-it's completely dry. "Whatever," I say, pushing past him to my room. I smirk as I close my door. I decided not to warn him-

The shout comes from the bathroom, high and insistent.

"Zoe!" Serves you right, I smirk as I turn back to stare at my reflection in the mirror. Same green eyes. Same dirty blonde hair. Nothing new. With a slightly trembling hand, I feel the ends of my braid again. Still dry.

"Zoe!" Mom's voice echoes from the hall. "I need to talk to you!"

I flop off my bed and open the door. "Yeah?"

"Your Dad and I have to go to work," she says, sitting next to me. "For the rest of the summer. Luke is going to his summer camp, and you will be hanging here by yourself. Is that okay?"

No mom, I'm tempted to say. That is NOT okay. Spending the summer locked in the house, all alone, yes, EXACTLY how I would choose to spend my time! (And, yes, that was sarcasm).

But as I've said, tell them what they want to hear.

"Yes Mom," I say with obvious forced enthusiasm. "It's fine." Mom's brow furrows.

"Are you sure?" she asks with concern. "I worry about you. If you need anything this summer, write a note. Grover will drop it off for you."

"Or you could just get a phone," I mutter. "Or a computer."

"We don't do electronics Zoe," Mom says, frowning. "You know that." Yes, I did. Just like I knew that my family was a family full of freaks. Really, what family DIDN'T have a cell? Or computer? Or iPod? Or anything electronic? Only the Jackson brigade of weirdos.

"Yes Mom," I say again. She smiles.

"Good. Just let me know if you need anything."

"Yes Mom," I say flatly again. Mom ruffles my hair and leaves, shutting the door lightly behind her. I stare at it, feeling my whole summer begin to unravel.


End file.
